


Splintered Self

by MistressPaint



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Meteorstuck, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 20:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4152075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressPaint/pseuds/MistressPaint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider, Knight of Time, was the kind of person who never hesitated to take a hit for his friends, or to overextend himself if it meant someone else didn't have to. At least, he was, until he realized something about himself and his powers.</p>
<p>Now the final battle is drawing near, Vriska wants him to work his Time magic, and Karkat is there to pick up the pieces when things don't go quite as the Scorpio had expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time's conviction

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty, ladies and gents. This chapter is a short peek into mid-game Dave Strider's head, the way I imagine it, to set the stage.

The timetables thrum slightly under your fingertips as you stand at the edge of the platform, ignoring the clanks and whirs of the giant gears, seemingly oblivious to the heat pressing in on you from all sides. It radiates from the ever-flowing molten rock that poured down the sides of the rickety metal structures populating your world, moving sluggishly around the sturdy iron bars that disappeared into the molten depths.

And you though Texas had been hot.

Instead of watching the surroundings, you turn your attention inward, struggling to sort out… well, yourself. You weren’t really sure when it had started, this splintering. Retaining the memories of dead versions of yourself – hell, HAVING dead versions of yourself. Alternate Daves appearing out of nowhere, but also out of the exact same place you had come from, developing individually and as a group, their existences snuffed out just as easily as they had appeared when something goes wrong.

But they weren’t really alternates. They were all Alpha Daves, at least until they died, or their particular time loops grew unstable and they were trapped in a doomed timeline. They were all you – Dave Strider, coolkid extraordinaire and full on basket case. The one that has, if not firsthand experience, the direct knowledge and memory of the consequences of failure. The others just didn’t get it. Rose had an idea – she had some memories of _that_ doomed timeline, after all – but John and Jade, man, they had no idea. They’d been so excited to play the game, so sure it would all work out.

Until it all went to pieces and he was stuck with two dead friends and a useless sprite.

Rose understood. But she couldn’t really _do_ anything, y’know. She could help their survival in other ways. She was the longsighted one. You, well…

What’s another splinter, created one moment and dead the next, compared to a friend? They’re living, breathing, unique individuals. You’ve got plenty of spares of yourself. Not like you’ll ever run low. A quick flick of the tables, twisting another loop into the flow of time, and there you have it. Multi-tasking to the extreme.

Who cares if you feel broken apart, somehow a single whole and divided into many simultaneously? Who cares if you’re haunted by the regrets of every doomed Dave, every single one that fucked up and wants to fix it? Who cares if you sometimes feel torn in a thousand directions, the memories and thoughts of every version of yourself running parallel and perpendicular, crossing back and forth over and through each other and turning you into a goddamn tangled mess?

You sure as hell don’t.

Not so long as you can protect your friends.


	2. Blood's Compassion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat goes to find Dave when the human doesn't show up for their movie time, but accidentally ends up witnessing a confrontation. Stunned, and more than a little confused, he decides to find out what's going on.

==>BE KARKAT

You stomp down the halls of this forsaken chunk of flying space rock, growling to yourself. You waited for an entire fucking hour for Strider to show up, and he’s nowhere to be found. He’s been hyping up this movie ever since you finally let him talk you into it – you almost forgot you were supposed to be annoyed at the pestering when you saw the look on his face as you agreed. Reigning in _that_ line of thought, you shake your head and continue on your way, carefully avoiding contemplating Strider and his ridiculous grasp on the absolute BASIC tenets of the quadrants. Seriously, what the nook munching FUCK was with him? First you thought you’d settled quite nicely into a healthy pale relationship. Then he starts making red overtures! Next thing you know you two are arguing so close and intensely you could swear you might even be heading into the caliginous zone. You’re just – argh! Why can’t he settle in one? For that matter, why can’t you just force him in one? This isn’t how this is supposed to work! Troll romance makes sense! It’s not this mess of ridiculous love and hate and friendship and aaaaaargh.

Anyway. Right. Not thinking about all that.

But still. He could’ve at least pulled his fucking pale-as-a-rainbow-drinker head out of his festering ass for once and shown up on time for them to watch the movie.

As you approach his respite block – room, whatever – you affix your scowl and draw a deep breath, bringing forth the scathing delivery you’d been preparing the whole way here, ready to pound on his door and DEMAND to know what the FUCK was going on and—

Wait.

You slow as you approach the branching of this particular avenue. Right around the corner, you know, is your destination. But you hear voices. Loud, angry ones.

“LIKE I saaaid, I don’t see what the big deal is??? It’s practically your job description.” What the hell was Vriska doing back here?

“And, like _I_ said, NO.” Your jaw drops. You can barely recognize him  – listening hard you can hear the deep, smooth voice with just a hint of an accent Rose claims is ‘texan’ or some such thing. You could listen to it for hours – in fact, you have. But you’ve never heard him like this. Normally that voice is slower and slightly drawling, dripping with sarcasm, every word dragged out lazily to infuriate those around him.

Not hard and clipped like this, every word bitten out and his whole tone saturated with anger and layered with fury.

Pressing yourself against the wall, your own anger temporarily put on hold, you slide closer to end of the wall, carefully peering around the corner and focusing on the conversation.

Vriska looks exactly as you expected. Arms crossed, foot tapping, hip cocked and a slightly superior looking smirk pasted on her face, her standard mode of operation whenever she was trying to bully anyone into doing what she wanted.

In contrast, Strider is just about the opposite. Gone are the ironic smirks and half smiles, the casual poses and cool indifference. Instead he stands rigid, jaw clenched and hands fisted so tightly that, even from here, you can see his skin straining white and tendons standing out.

Now, hearing his flat denial, Vriska’s smug look morphed into a scowl. “What kind of Knight of Time are you? We need information, fast. You’re pretty much the guy for the job. Not like we have a whole legion of idiots that can replicate themselves at will. Just make a few dozen copies into various points in the timeline, use ‘em as spies – they aren’t really you, or even real, so it’s not like it matters if they die.” As she spoke, you watched him tense even more, flinching at her last sentence.

Taking a deep breath, he flexes his hands open, curling and spreading his fingers as if itching to break something. For a moment dread pools heavily in your stomach, and you fear he’s about to lose control – but no. He masters it before finally responding, his voice low and deadly, harder even than before.

“Listen here, you spider bitch. You don’t know ANYTHING – not about how my abilities work, not about spying, and sure as hell not about copies.” He gritted his teeth, spitting out. “If you want someone to destroy themselves for the sake of you gaining a minuscule amount of useless information, go talk to your so-called friends. From what I heard, you’ve managed to screw most of them over already. What more could a little insanity do?” Giving her a raking once-over, he shrugged. “Hell, do it yourself. Maybe take a break from making everybody around you miserable and actually be somewhat useful for a change.” Turning on his heel and walking away, he paused in his doorway, casting one last glare back at her.

“But leave me the fuck out of it.”

Then he disappeared into the darkness of his room, the door slamming shut behind him.

* * *

You hide as Vriska storms off, seething. Once she’s well away, the sounds of her footsteps and angry muttering no longer carrying back to you, you creep quietly towards his door, listening carefully to the rustling and movement on the other side.

Then, silence.

You wait for a while longer, wrestling with yourself. You should just go back, pretend you never saw anything. It was Strider’s problem. You could just hang out by yourself, save the you-made-me-wait-and-missed-movie-time rant for later, and everything would go back to normal.

Instead, you take a deep breath, raising a shaky hand to knock. “Stri-“ you swallow, pausing.

“Dave?”

You’re greeted by silence.

You knock again, harder. “Dave, it’s Karkat. Let me in.”

You wait unanswered, for long enough that you’re about to knock once more, irked, just as the door creaks open.

He watches you, face carefully devoid of expression, for a bit before nodding slowly, pulling the door open a bit further to admit you. You step inside as he closes the door again, then walks back over to his bed and drops down, silent through the entire process.

Hesitant, you pick your way towards him, the room barely illuminated by a single lamp on a small table. Perching on the opposite side of the bed, you watch him, wondering what was wrong. What had triggered all that, outside.

He looked… broken. Defeated. Slumped over, arms limp in his lap as he stared down. His hair was disheveled, clothes out of place – he even somehow looked paler than normal. But the weirdest part was his sunglasses: obviously hastily jammed on to answer the door, pushed tight up against his face.

He almost never wore the glasses anymore when it was just you two and the lights weren’t all that bright. Ever since you’d bonded over being candy red freaks, he was more relaxed about it. Even if he wore them, they were further down his nose, letting him peek over the top, his eyes somewhat visible and free to crinkle or roll in whatever infuriatingly attractive mannerisms he feels like deploying. But not now

Rising up on your knees – cursing your short arms – you move closer, gingerly reaching out and taking hold of the thin frames, drawing them away from his face.

He doesn’t resist.

You carefully fold them and set the behind you, beside the lamp, before turning your worried gaze back to him. You raise your hand, gently brushing away the pale hair hiding his expression, lingering on his cheek with the lightest of touches. Beneath the glasses, his eyes are red and glistening, but from unshed tears rather than freak genetic chance. He forced a smile, joking weakly, “Shoulda known you’d notice, huh, karkitten?”

His voice is shaky and raw, eyes glittering wetly in the feeble glow of the lamp. You have an almost unbearable urge to just, you don’t know. Fix it. Make him better. Make him smile and laugh again.

Ah, to hell with it.

Fuck the quadrants.

You slide your lingering hand down his face to grab him by the collar and pull both of you towards each other, pressing your lips to his. For a beat, he’s frozen, stiff and unbelieving. Your stomach drops and you think you fucked up. You start to release him.

Then everything is happening at once. He kisses you back, overriding your hesitant withdrawal, as he wraps both his arms around you. He’s pulling you against his chest as you cling to him, melting, mouth still fully occupied by his, when you feel wetness on your face. You break the kiss, surprised, and realize that he’s crying, full on sobbing, and clutching you like a lifeline. Distressed, you pull your arms out from where they’re sandwiched against his chest and wrap them around his neck, then lean back. With you still up on your knees, and him so tall yet brittle, it’s enough to tip you over, bringing you both crashing down onto the bed. You stroke his hair as he sobs against you, arms tight around your waist and face pressed into your shoulder. You can feel your own eyes prickling, and suddenly you can’t think of anything more important than comforting the broken man that hides behind shades and attitude, collapsed against you with your fingers running through his glittering hair and the taste of him still lingering on your lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how Vriska mentioned during the battle planning that she did the time-shenanigans for reconnaissance instead of Dave? My head kind of latched onto to that and ended up noodling out an entire headcanon about Dave. Plus Karkat of course because X3 it makes so happy.
> 
> Also to be clear I don't actually hate Vriska. I kind of like her. But she makes a good foil for Dave here.


	3. Time &  Blood's Combination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave finally spills the secrets about his abilities and why he won't use them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay yeah this whole story is basically a massive headcanon plus davekat, but I feel like it works with what we know. Hussie never did explain why Dave stopped using his tables, or any of that.
> 
> Anyways, apologies if some parts feel rushed.

==>BE DAVE

You lie there for what seems like an eternity, still locked together despite having cried yourself out a while ago, but neither of you can bring yourselves to let go. Instead you listen to the steady heartbeat of the smaller troll, thumping comfortingly in a double rhythm under your cheek, lulling you into calm.

Eventually, you break the silence. “I…” you wince as your voice cracks. You’re not really sure what you’re doing, or saying, anymore, but it spills out anyway, the bare bones of the secret you’d been harboring ever since you four had started the game. “During our session… I was so focused. So sure that I absolutely had to keep everyone else out of harm’s way.” You laugh a little, bitterly remembering Rose’s descent into darkness and death, as well as your own failure to protect Jade. “I did exactly what Vriska was suggesting. I looped time over and over, creating copies of myself. It was easy enough. But…” Your voice shakes a little, and Karkat’s fingers slide through your hair, soothing you. “Every time I did, I splintered myself. I was too many people. I felt every death, every feeling, every regret because I was every single one of them. I was living in the same time too much. But I didn’t really realize it. I was so caught up in doing what I thought was best for the others, that I didn’t realize I was completely wrecking my own shit.” You take a deep breath.

“But I kept doing it. It seemed like the best way. My bro _died_ fighting that monster that was chasing us – we didn’t have a chance. So I kept looping and looping to give us even a minute longer, spinning my tables till my fingers were raw and I could barely tell which Dave was the real one. Which set of memories and thoughts were actually me.

So Jade and I got her forge started. Took a lot of work, but we did it. Then, frog hunting and then…” Your voice drops, the memory still fresh even after nearly 3 full years on the meteor.

“Bec Noir showed up.

He didn’t hurt Jade – most of his power came from Jade’s freaky dog, so it was super loyal. Didn’t stop it from killing me, though. Redirected her bullets straight into my back – actual me, not one of the copies or offshoots or whatever you want to call them. I woke up on Derse, realized what had happened, and almost gave up then and there.

Then suddenly everything was happening, and we were running out of time again. John was on LOHAC making the Scratch, fighting off the monsters and being all windy and shit. Jade finished the frog, was killed, and Bec Noir helped her ascend into this crazy space furry witch with insane powers. Meanwhile Rose and I had failed. We were both dead in the real world – me on LOFAF, and Rose on Skaia. Now we’re trapped on Derse with one thing left to do, and neither of us willing to stay behind.

So we cut the moon’s chain and took it on a suicide mission, through the Furthest Ring, to destroy and create the Green Sun. Two pale kids in purple PJs with a knit-patched cyborg bunny from a shitty movie, piloting a spikey purple moon through the darkness with a big ass yin yang bug bomb. It would’ve been funny if we didn’t think we were about to disappear, permanently, forever. No more extra dream lives.

But it turned out there were copies of our quest beds in the moon. So we set off the Tumor, created the sun, and blew ourselves to smithereens. And then…” You hesitate, struggling for the words to describe what happened, and he waits, patient. Like nothing else in the world matters aside from listening to you ramble about how you’re so fucked up inside that you can’t even do your job.

“I guess it’s like how Jade became part omnipotent dog – the ascension to god tier merged all existing forms of her, including the sprite that was half Becquerel.

For me… suddenly, all the loops were gone. There were no more splinters. All of the versions of me, different timelines and pinpoints, every single one that still existed, were absorbed back in. The flow of time was smoothed out and healed.” You tighten your arms around Karkat, and he reciprocates, his own arms around your neck squeezing tight in turn as your shoulders shake.

“Suddenly, I was all once person again. One person, just me, with one set of thoughts and one main set of memories. I still had the knowledge from all the copies, but it was passive now – I had it, could access it, but it wasn’t confusing me anymore”

You struggle to hold back the tears that threaten to reappear, your voice cracking and words punctuated by slight hiccups. “And suddenly I realized, I couldn’t do it again. It would drive me off the deep end, full on fucking pirouette off the handle. Being that many, that confused, that… divided. It would absolutely destroy me.

I haven’t touched my timetables since.”

* * *

Silence reigns for a while, both of you digesting everything you had just spilled. A wave of exhaustion and repressed feeling wash over you, and you roll over, body protesting the movement after being still and comfortable for so long, pulling Karkat with you and rearranging yourselves. Humming contentedly as he snuggles against your front, you drape an arm over him and rest your chin on his head. You both enjoy just… being there. Holding each other. Two broken, fucked up guys that had managed to find their perfect match in someone just as bad as themselves.

You find yourself starting to drift off, content, when he suddenly speaks up, hesitant yet morbidly compelled to ask. “What… was it like? The time travel, the… well, everything. I can’t even imagine it.”

You stare into space for a moment, collecting your words, as he shifts in your embrace. “I’m not sure I can describe it… it was… I don’t know. Intoxicating. You’ve seen my normal record tables – now imagine them connected to the flow of time.

A flick of my wrist to get them spinning and I disappear. I’m not there anymore – suddenly I’m immerse in Time itself, but only for an instant. I drag my fingers across their surfaces, tapping and drawing patterns that appear out of nowhere into my head, and then the flow is bending and splitting and shifting into whatever I want, loops upon loops all tangled together like something out of Rose’s dreams. But I can feel it, understand it… I can control it. Manipulate the hell out of it, to do crazy stuff like… well… yeah.” You let your voice trail out, squeezing your arms around him tighter, as if afraid to let go for fear he’ll disappear. You didn’t really answer him, but… it’s hard. It happens less now, but especially in the early days on the meteor, you felt the tug to play the timetables almost constantly.

_Just a little_ you’d think to yourself.

_No splintering, or replicating. Just some exploration. You’ll come right back_.

_It’ll be fine – fun, even. No consequences._

But you knew that if you started again, you wouldn’t be able to stop. It’s like you told him. It’s intoxicating, like a euphoric drug. The sense of control, of actually being able to do something to protect everyone and maybe have a chance at not failing this shitty game.

You’re so caught up in your own thoughts that you don’t realize how long it’s been since you stopped, until he speaks up once more, startling you, murmuring against your collarbone. “Thanks for telling me, Dave… for trusting me.”

You smile and bury your face in his hair. “Just don’t spill it to the rest.”

“Speaking of which…” You loosen your grasp just enough to let him as he leans his torso back slightly to look up at you, examining your expression. “Do you think we uh… should tell the girls?” he asked, face growing red.

You think for a moment, imagining it… “Nah.” Your grin broadens as you lean down.

“I think I’ll just keep you for myself.”

He rolls his eyes at you, tilting his head to meet your lips in another bone melting kiss.

 

==>BE KARKAT

Yeah.

Fuck the quadrants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I just realized how incredibly lame these chapter titles are I can't deal with this. Scuse me while I go hide in a corner somewhere.


End file.
